Part 4 Fog Flees the Sundowners!
November 27th 2007 12:19
En route to the mysterious Sundowners, I knew the clue was in that name but I just couldn’t imagine what it was, the head nun decided to make a short detour, “We will pass their place anyway, and so you might as well meet them.”
We first met old Harold; he was alone, in his small room, sitting in a sedan chair, staring out the window. “Hello Harold, I have a new volunteer for you to meet.”
Harold turned around smiling, and gingerly extended his hand, keeping it close to his body. I leaned over and took his hand, shaking it gently while observing the usual introduction etiquette.
“Harold is blind.” As it had become gloomy and overcast outside, I was glad I had not resorted to small talk, out of awkwardness, and said something like, ‘Nice to SEE you, and, LOOKS like a storm brewing, maybe time to get BLIND drunk eh wot?”
No, we chatted for a moment, and promised to become friends, and I said a warm farewell, “SEE you soon!” slipped out before I could stop it. He chuckled. Yes, I would see him later, but he would not.
Feeling slightly chasten, I followed head nun along the long corridor to their lounge room, and there, near the centre of the large room, was a chubby old doll, in a wheel chair, white hair puffed out in a slightly sagging soft ball shape, her face so brightly made up, she reminded me of an Easter egg . We stood for a moment in silence, and stared at her face, it was smiling, as if she was seeing an old friend, walking into the room through the wall.
“Hello May”, said head nun softly, “I have someone here for you to meet.” We remained at the open double doors, which I found slightly odd. May was English and one hundred years old, as I was then told by the nun. The world of May’s past swirled around her, comforting and embracing, warming her soul as she relived a long life, and fascinating acquaintances.
My greatest regret was not getting to know her. For she carried, in her mind, observations of worlds that had changed incredibly fast, and tumultuously; she came from a once genteel society, through the horrors of war, to finally land here in Australia. Somehow, seeing her in such quiet, reflective solitude, it seemed like banishment, as if she was in a limbo, God’s waiting room.
It was in her face, however, that one discerned her feelings, where her memories quietly flooded back, internally, once more at the pinnacle of her society. Our presence was but a momentary interruption, a forgettable blip on her vast emotional horizon; peace blessed her, before her passing.
May had somehow imbued me with a feeling of calm and I floated from her house.
But my momentary calm was about to be slam dunked.
“Right! To the Sundowners!” she said with a military clip in her voice. I still couldn’t remember her name, so she remained ‘head nun’, but only for the next few minutes!
We first met old Harold; he was alone, in his small room, sitting in a sedan chair, staring out the window. “Hello Harold, I have a new volunteer for you to meet.”
Harold turned around smiling, and gingerly extended his hand, keeping it close to his body. I leaned over and took his hand, shaking it gently while observing the usual introduction etiquette.
“Harold is blind.” As it had become gloomy and overcast outside, I was glad I had not resorted to small talk, out of awkwardness, and said something like, ‘Nice to SEE you, and, LOOKS like a storm brewing, maybe time to get BLIND drunk eh wot?”
No, we chatted for a moment, and promised to become friends, and I said a warm farewell, “SEE you soon!” slipped out before I could stop it. He chuckled. Yes, I would see him later, but he would not.
Feeling slightly chasten, I followed head nun along the long corridor to their lounge room, and there, near the centre of the large room, was a chubby old doll, in a wheel chair, white hair puffed out in a slightly sagging soft ball shape, her face so brightly made up, she reminded me of an Easter egg . We stood for a moment in silence, and stared at her face, it was smiling, as if she was seeing an old friend, walking into the room through the wall.
“Hello May”, said head nun softly, “I have someone here for you to meet.” We remained at the open double doors, which I found slightly odd. May was English and one hundred years old, as I was then told by the nun. The world of May’s past swirled around her, comforting and embracing, warming her soul as she relived a long life, and fascinating acquaintances.
My greatest regret was not getting to know her. For she carried, in her mind, observations of worlds that had changed incredibly fast, and tumultuously; she came from a once genteel society, through the horrors of war, to finally land here in Australia. Somehow, seeing her in such quiet, reflective solitude, it seemed like banishment, as if she was in a limbo, God’s waiting room.
It was in her face, however, that one discerned her feelings, where her memories quietly flooded back, internally, once more at the pinnacle of her society. Our presence was but a momentary interruption, a forgettable blip on her vast emotional horizon; peace blessed her, before her passing.
May had somehow imbued me with a feeling of calm and I floated from her house.
But my momentary calm was about to be slam dunked.
“Right! To the Sundowners!” she said with a military clip in her voice. I still couldn’t remember her name, so she remained ‘head nun’, but only for the next few minutes!
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Comment by tlcorbin-raginravensview
Comment by Mountain Fog
Infognito
Screen Trek
QUOTE ME NO QUOTES!
Hey Raven,
I don't think I would have coped at all well with your old drill instructor!
I only just coped with cadets at school...reminds me...should write about that sometime too!
Raven, why don't you write about your boot camp days, that would be interesting and fun to read about, especially when spiced with some of your usual acerbic dry wit!!
cheers
fog
Comment by Tracy
Movies and Life
I love this description:
I will read the next part tomorow, looking forward to it.
Tracy
Comment by Mountain Fog
Infognito
Screen Trek
QUOTE ME NO QUOTES!
one of my very few, or is that now only two(?) readers..hehe!
cheers
fog
Comment by Tracy
Movies and Life
Ah, but two very appreciative readers....the others are missing out.
I'm off to Part 5 now
Tracy
Comment by Mountain Fog
Infognito
Screen Trek
QUOTE ME NO QUOTES!
cheers
fog
Comment by Lilla
From The Home Front
Enviro Warrior
Dream Herald
Esoteric Bookshop
Just to let you know that I am reading too... and voting, of course...
and a great read it is, I also love this nun *chuckle* not!
>>>Reading on>>>
Lilla...
Comment by Mountain Fog
Infognito
Screen Trek
QUOTE ME NO QUOTES!
yes, I love the troll nun too!!
hehe!
cheers and thanks for reading!
fog
Comment by Ash
Flashes of memories
I love this about 'old' people - they have such great stories stashed away there in their filing cabinets.
Ash
Comment by Mountain Fog
Infognito
Screen Trek
QUOTE ME NO QUOTES!
yeah it is true, and we bozos go about ignoring them, till it is too late! So much social history gets lsot that way.
cheers
fog